


Telanadas: Heart of Fen'Harel

by Wytcherblood



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Rating: M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wytcherblood/pseuds/Wytcherblood
Summary: A small smirk tugged at one corner of the Dalish hunter's lips. It caused Solas' heart to flutter in his chest. An odd feeling he's never felt before. Lavellan chuckled to himself, watching the elven mage shift from foot to foot. He liked messing with the mage.





	1. Chapter 1

Solas watched from a distance, being a wallflower from the celebration. Haven was full of life after the Breach had been closed. The villagers and Inquisition soldiers danced and sang around the campfire. Many more celebrated within the tavern. The elven mage's attention wasn't on any of the people celebrating the victory, but on the other elf leaning up against the wall next to the Chantry doors. He stilled the moment Lavellan's eyes caught his. Smoldering golden ambers bore into his own.

A small smirk tugged at one corner of the Dalish hunter's lips. It caused Solas' heart to flutter in his chest. An odd feeling he's never felt before. Lavellan chuckled to himself, watching the elven mage shift from foot to foot. He liked messing with the mage. He was always able to sneak up on him at times. With a tilt of his head and smoldering ambers never leaving the other, he curved around the corner. Disappearing from sight.

Solas recognized the tilt of Lavellan's head. He was inviting him to follow. Now leaning forward slightly, using his staff as support, he glanced about the celebration. He made sure no one saw him sneak away, yet now that he thought about it, why would he mind anyone see him leave? Giving a shake of his head, Solas started to make his way towards where Lavellan disappeared to.

"Leaving already, Chuckles?" Varric's voice startled Solas and the elven mage nearly jumped out of his own skin, if he could.

"Varric!" Solas took a deep breath, eyes closed as he placed a hand over his rapidly beating heart. "You startled me..."

The dwarven rogue lifted both hands up with an apologetic smirk. "Sorry there, Chuckles."

Solas sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back towards the Chantry. The dwarf noticed Solas' eyes glance away and curiosity poked at him.

"You feeling all right?" Varric asked, concern in his voice.

Solas gave a nod of his head, "Mmn, just feeling exhausted from the day." the elven mage didn't particularly lie to the dwarven rogue, he was feeling a bit tired after assisting Levallen at closing the Breach. "Wanted to slip away and rest a while."

Varric nodded and excused himself, watching the elven mage leave before Cassandra came over after him.

Once he reached the Chantry, Solas looked over his shoulder briefly before rounding the corner. The elven mage's eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of fire-light in the small area. He looked about the small archery area, searching for any sign of the other elven male.

"I knew you'd follow, Lethallan." Lavellan's almost whimsical, smooth voice sounded happily from the shadows. The Dalish elf stepped out into Solas' view with a welcoming, friendly smile.

Solas frowned a little when he was greeted. "Hello, Herald." when he emphasized the title, it caused the other's brow to furrow.

Lavellan crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his head. "Did I offend?" he questioned, calmly.

Solas gave a small bow of his head. "I am not of the Dalish, yet you still continue to regard me as such. Even since the beginning when we first officially met, Herald."

Anger sparked in the other elven male's eyes and Solas himself nearly flinched. Regret soon spiked him in his gut for such a harsh tone that went along with his words. He opened his mouth to apologize, but quickly shut it when Lavellan advanced towards him. He took a step back, nearly tripping over a rock, his balance stumbling. The Dalish elf's hands took hold of the elven mage's shoulders, steading him only briefly before twisting him into another direction and slammed his back against the stone wall.

"That might be true, but we're both still Elvhen." Lavellan didn't let up on his grip and continued, golden ambers staring directly into Solas' surprised gaze. "You're not a Flat-Ear, but more than that. You know so much that the Dalish do not. So why not use that to help us? To teach us what we all lost?"

Solas turned his gaze away, heart pounding in his chest. The words the Dalish hunter had spoken rand some truth. From his ventures in the Fade during his sleep, he found various things about the elves of the past. Yet not once has he even chosen to seek out any of the Clans to share his findings. Lavellan's eyes searched the elven mage's visage for any sign. He found nothing to prove that the elven mage before him to open up and speak. He released his hold on Solas and stepped back, fists balling up at his sides. He gritted his teeth and tsked, turning to leave.

Another heart beat of silence continued on between the two then Lavellan spoke.

"*Ma banal las halamshir var vhen." the Dalish elf left as swift as he had spoken the Elvhen tongue.

Solas winced at those words, his shoulders slump and he sighed.

"*Ir abelas..."


	2. Chapter 2

It had been days after Corypheus had attacked Haven. Many lives were lost and many were wounded. The fledgling Inquisition was left out in the cold, its Advisors at each others throats and its elven Herald of Andraste laid writhing in agony one more from the mark and new wounds inflicted from the battle. Solas had gone to his side to help, only to be turned away with a pained growl and burning golden amber eyes. Since that night, in the small archery area beside Haven's Chantry, the two elves haven't been on good speaking terms. A couple of times Iron Bull tried to get the two to talk, even Varric tried. It never truly ended well. Both Solas and Lavellan would start to yell at each other in Elvhen. Which always left Solas with the upper hand on the Dalish hunter, since he knew more words in Elvhen than the Herald.

Solas stood beside the Veil Fire brazer, facing towards its mystic green-blue light. Occasionally, he would glance over towards the tent Lavellan laid resting, in pain. It left him little to do to help for now, so he stood close to the veil fire, wrapped in a fur blanket Cassandra passed along to him. Closing his eyes, the elven mage thought back on their arguements... then it drifted further back when Lavellan spoke to him with a friendly, welcoming smile. Elvhen greetings and song dancing along his tongue when ever he found the elven mage.

Hugging the fur tighter around his shoulders, Solas breathed out a heavy sigh, guilty slowly blooming within his being.

Three more days went by and Lavellan was able to move around more. The mark no longer bothered him, but his other wounds still stun. He spoke to the Inquisition Advisors then to Mother Giselle before making his way through the rest of the camp. He was checking to see if everyone was all right and gathered a few men to go out hunting. Commander Cullen and Cassandra both protested, saying that he still needed to rest. Lavellan shook his head and grinned.

"I still have use of my bow arm. Besides, we need to gather food if we do not wish to starve tonight. Watch over and protect the others till we return."

Lavellan slung his bow onto his shoulder and picked up the quiver of arrows. Before clasping the belt across his back, he gaze wandered to where Solas chosen to set his tent. Both surprised each other when they both caught themselves staring at each other. Lavellan turned his back and Solas averted his gaze.

"We'll return by sun down." Lavellan told the Commander before leaving with the small hunting party.

Solas glanced back up towards the Dalish hunter's position, watching his back as he disappeared into the forest with his hunting party. With a shake of his head, the elven mage walked back into his tent and sat cross-legged upon the bedroll of furs.

"Chuckles? You awake in there?" the dwarf's voice roused Solas from sleep.

He sat up slightly confused. When had I fallen asleep? he wondered, brushing the palm of a hand against his cheek. He moved towards the entrance of his tent and moved the flaps aside, he looked up slightly to Varric.

"Yes, I'm awake." he spoke, still slightly groggy.

Varric gave a nod and held out a bowl of hot beef stew. The steam danced and rolled above the bowl, the delicious smell caused Solas' mouth to water and stomach to growl.

"Thought you might be hungry," Varric said, passing the bowl over to the elven mage. "The Herald took down a large wild druffalo. From what the other hunters said, they've never seen a Dalish hunter at work before."

Solas gave a slight nod of his head, taking a few mouth fulls of the stew. Warmth washed over him as he ate more, listening to Varric talk. He looked over towards the loud bellowing group of soldiers and Lavellan in the middle. The Dalish hunter sang along with the men with a large toothy grin and fist up in the air, a few words sang in Elvhen here and there. Before long, Iron bull snatched up Lavellan from behind and toss him up onto his shoulders, catching the Herald off guard. Everyone around to see whooped and laughed. Varric chuckled and Solas gave a half shake of his head and went about finishing his supper. The chatter and laughter grew louder, pulling the elven mage's attention back towards the main camp. The qunari was now balancing on a barrel and Lavellan standing up, juggling what looked to be fruit, apples maybe. It was a funny sight to see, an elf and qunari performing tricks jesters in courts would do. Many around the camp applaud and cheered joyously to their performance. At least it was something to keep everyone's minds off of what had happened at Haven.

Varric turned his attention back to the elven mage, catching a glimpse of a sorrowful expression. "You should try talking with him again." the dwarven rogue suggested in a friendly manner.

"And say what, Child of the Stone?" Solas spoke in a guarded tone, pushing what was left in the his bowl around.

"I don't know, maybe start with 'Hello' and go from there?"

Solas frowned into the bowl, if only the others knew what was exchanged between the two in Elvhen. Then they would've understand it wasn't that easy to be done.

"Just try, alright?" Varric rubbed at the back of his own neck. "Anyways, Chuckles, I'm gonna head back to my tent and get some shut eye."

Solas bayed the dwarf farewell for the night before finishing off the stew before setting the bowl aside. He stood up and stood before the Veil Fire brazer again, Varric's words echoing in his mind. What could he possibly say to the Dalish hunter now? The elven mage closed his eyes in thought, grasping his hands behind his back. Taking slow, even breaths he concentrated in blocking out all the noise behind him. The cold nipped at him, his lithe figure quivered only slight until a thought came to him. He turned swiftly on his heel and trotted over to the large gathering around the main campfire. Lavellan was no longer on Iron Bull's shoulders, but rough housing with The Chargers lieutenant.

Solas cleared his throat and called out. "Lavellan!"

The Dalish hunter glanced over his shoulder, still in a deadlock with Krem. "What is it, Flat-Ear?"

Solas winced only slight from those words. He shook it off and stood firm. "I have something I wish to discuss with you."

The vint Lavellan was wrestling with took the chance to use this as an opportunity. Though the Dalish hunter wasn't so easily thrown off when Krem tried to lift and toss him. Lavellan shifted his weight and locked his legs around Krem's torso. He used Krem's momentum against him and flipped The Chargers lieutenant onto his back. The vint let out a huff as the breath was knocked out of him. The Chargers laughed when their lieutenant's ass was handed to him by the Herald. Lavellan twisted up onto his feet and brushed the dirt off of himself. He crossed his arms and stared directly at the elven mage.

"What do you have to discuss?" Lavellan's voice was firm and calm.

Solas gave a nod of his head and beckoned the Dalish hunter to follow him. He turned around and went back towards the Veil Fire brazer close to his tent. He felt Lavellan's presence behind him as the Dalish hunter followed him over. Solas was going to use this chance to tell the Herald about Sky Hold and the Orb, before they ended up in another arguement.


	3. Chapter 3

Lavellan led the Inquisition on through the Frostback Mountains, following Solas' lead towards a place. Somewhere where the Inquisition could rebuild from what they've lost in Haven. Lavellan stopped only briefly to turn and look over the many men and women that followed them. He could so many were growing tired... and all still grieving for their friends and loved ones. Not far from him, a child stumbled and face planted into the snow. She sat up, blinked then began to cry and Lavellan skid-stepped through the snow towards the child.

Solas noticed the presence of the Dalish Hunter disappear and he turned only slight to look over his shoulder. What he found surprised him. The Dalish Hunter knelt down and helped the child back up onto her feet. He spoke softly to her as he brushed off snow and plucked pine needles from her honey-golden tresses. He smiled warmly to her and encouraged her to climb up onto his back. Lavellan didn't see any parent run over for their child as he glanced about the large group of men and women. He found Mother Giselle walking beside Lelianna and Cassandra ahead of the two. He gazed over his shoulder up to the little girl.

"Shall we go find your family?" he said with a smile.

She nodded her head and Lavellan headed towards the back of the traveling survivors of Haven. Solas wasn't sure what to think at this moment as he watched the Dalish hunter carry a human child upon his back. Commander Cullen noticed what went on and walked up to the elven mage.

"I take it we will be making camp here for now?" the ex-templar questioned, amusement in his voice.

Solas gave a slight nod. "It appears so."

Lavellan managed to find the child's mother. She had also been searching for her child, both having been separated when the child wandered off after Master Dennet and the horses. The Dalish hunter stood perched upon a boulder, watching the sun slowly drift behind the horizon. The longer he watched the colors burst among the clouds, the more he started to miss his Clan. He remembered when he was a few years younger, climbing the trees with the other children and a couple of older hunters. All to just perch in them, watch the colors of the setting sun and listen to the stories from the older hunters of their hunts. With a soft sigh, Lavellan loosely crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head down with eyes closed.

Down just a little ways behind him, the camp wasn't as lively like the other night. There wasn't as much noise other than the sounds of the horses and his hart. He focused listening to the animals, then focused listening to the sounds of the pine tree woods. The rustling of the branches from smaller critters and the whoo-ing of an owl helped him calm as his shoulders began to relax. Lavellan started to remember the few happier days of Haven, the first few days when he was new to the interactions of kinder people. Other than Seggrit calling him Knife-Ear once in a while, Threnn the quartermaster told him once that anyone called him as such she'd personally deal with them. It had shocked him, yes, never actually seen a human defend an elf til then. Honestly, he actually quite enjoyed seeing Threnn give Seggrit a talking to which followed Lysette to do the same at him.

With a small snirk of a sound, the Dalish hunter gave a small smile at those memories. Though, before long, those pleasant memories drifted into unpleasant, painful ones of his old life before the Dalish. The kind that left a horrid taste in his mouth. The whole calming effect of Nature was replaced with a foul mood, rigid, slender shoulders and a stiff back. As he turned to hop off his perch, he was taken by surprise by a very large, brown/black hart starting right up at him.

"Ghilan'revasan," the surprised Dalish stared only briefly before breathing a sigh and placing a gentle hand to the hart's muzzle. "Come to check on me, old friend?"

The hart snuffed, lifting her head enough and took a step forward to nuzzle right into the Dalish's shoulder. Lavellan chuckled and petted the soft, fluffy hide of the hart. The petting didn't last long as Ghilan'revasan shifted, turning to show her back to the Dalish hunter and glanced over. Lavellan took this as cue and climbed up onto the hart's bare back. Unlike the horses and bronto, Ghilan'revasan was never saddled or bridled. Nor was the hart tethered or stabled. She never strayed far from the young hunter and she was free to wander the lands. If Lavellan ever needed her, all he had to do was call for her... and she would come. As both Dalish rider and hart moved through the camp towards the woods, anyone still awake watched the two in either awe or bowed their heads in greeting.

Lelianna did, however, step into the hart's path to cause Ghilan'revasan pause. "Herald," the Spy Master of the Inquisition softly spoke, though still loud enough for him to hear. "If you plan on an evening ride, please take this with you."

"Mmn?" Lavellan gave a slight tilt of his head as Lelianna walked over to his side and held up a horn, his bow and quiver of arrows.

She smiled, "They say the woods are most dangerous at night."

The Dalish hunter gave a slight nod of his head and thanked her, taking the items in hand. After he finished strapping his quiver to his back and bow slung over his shoulder, he gazed back down to her. "Thank you, though I do not plan on going too far. Just a ride out with an old friend."

The Nightingale glanced up to the hart's eye that kept a close watch of her. She smiled again, giving a gentle brush of her hand to Ghilan'revasan's shoulder. "*Dareth."

Lavellan returned her smile with his own, knowing she wished not just him, but also Ghilan'revasan to be safe. "*Ma serannas." and both rider and hart trotted off into the woods, his back watched once more by a guilt-ridden, sorrowful gaze.

Ghilan'revasan slowed her pace once her young rider laid forward against the back of her neck. Lowering her head only slight as she snuffed, she trekked through the snows towards an unknown destination, perhaps. It had been a short while since both left the camp into the woods of the Frostbacks. Lavellan had closed his eyes moments ago, listening to his hart's hoof-beats through the crisp snow. He opened his eyes only slight, turned his head enough to glance up towards the cloudless night skies. Many stars danced and sparked and many constellations he remembers being shown as a child almost seemed to come alive. The moment Ghilan'revasan stopped, Lavellan perked and sat up.

"Mmn? What is is Ghilan'?"

The hart turned her head and brushed the very tip of her nose against his knee. She then turned her head forward again and tossed it up towards a small bubbling creak. He curiously followed her indication, surprised the water hadn't frozen completely. He slid off her back and moved towards the small creak, kneeling down next to it and peered into it. Glowing ambers stared back at him through the water's clear, reflective surface. When he was a child and actually seen his reflection in the night, it always took him by surprise that his eyes glowed in the darkness. When he asked his Clan's Hahren this, the elder chuckled and told him it was an elvhen thing. A form of night vision, so to speak. Of course, as young as he was back then, he had a hard time believing the Hahren. So the elder told him then that by night fall, they won't stoke the fire and the Hahren and a couple of other older Dalish would show him. With a small chuckle to the child of himself in the past, a memory he would never forget.

Lavellan lifted his head, looking towards the other side of the creek briefly then turned his gaze up to the stars once more. Ghilan'revasan came up to the young hunter's side and nudged the back of his shoulder. He looked up to her and softly smiled.

"We've been gone for a while now, haven't we?" the hart snuffed at him in agreement. He chuckled and stood back up and instead of climbing up onto her back, he opted to walk along beside her as they left the bubbling creek behind.

Every so often, Solas caught himself glancing towards the direction Lavellan had ridden off with the hart. With a frown, he would shake his head and scoff at himself. He should not be thinking of the Dalish hunter in such a way. Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, the elven mage closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. As he stood there, head tilted back and eyes closed, Solas tried to calm himself. To clear his mind of the thoughts of Lavellan, but to no avail... images of Lavellan's warm, smiling visage appeared. Faded whispers of the Dalish hunter's elvhen and common tongue words of greeting or just friendly jest towards the elven mage. The times that Lavellan sneaked up on him and the times Lavellan lifted him up off the ground by his waist in bear hugs. More memories went through his mind, a bit more quicker than earlier. The sounds of Lavellan's laughter, the victorious whooping he did after a battle.

Solas made a sound as he snapped his head forward, head in his hands as he tsked. 'Why? Why must he plague my thoughts?!'

"*Banal! Ghilan', stop pushing!"

The elven mage jolted at the sound of the Dalish hunter's voice ringing out. He sharply turned his gaze towards the direction of Lavellan's voice. The Dalish hunter was losing a battle against a hart pushing him with her head. The hart snorted and made a keening sound as she continued on pushing her young rider forward. Lavellan had his hands pressed against her forehead just below the base of her antlers, trying to push her back. He was finding it very difficult to find purchase on the snowy ground as he continued to slide backwards. He then noticed that the hart was pushing the Dalish hunter in his direction and his eyes widened. The longer the elven mage continued to watch them, the funnier it started to seem to him. Solas couldn't help, but to snicker. He cover his mouth with one hand and wrapped his other arm around, tucking his hand beneath his other arm. Lavellan already knew where the hart was pushing him and it caused him to feel very flustered.

The Dalish hunter looked over his shoulder and nearly gawked at the elven mage. He noticed Solas' shoulder quaking and him covering his mouth, but he could still see the corners of the elven mage's eyes slightly up-turned from a smile hidden behind his hand. "*Fenehdis! Are you laughing at me?!"

Solas gave a shake of his head, eyes shut again as he fought to not laugh at the Dalish hunter. Ghilan'revasan had stopped pressing her young rider forward, but kept her head lowered as if to keep him balanced from falling into the snow. Lavellan straightened up and took a step forward as he quickly bent over, scooping snow up into his gloved hand. He lobbed the oddly shaped ball of snow at the elven mage's face, stunning Solas. The elven mage shook his head and wiped the remnants of the snowball off his face. He stared at the Dalish hunter in disbelief. Lavellen gave a him a smirk in return to that expression. Solas squared his shoulders and stared the young Dalish in the eyes. He walked briskly passed and Lavellan watched him go. When Lavellan turned his attention away from Solas, something cold hit him in the back of the head. He turned sharply around, a hand to the back of his head and amber orbs wide in surprise.

Solas stood there with a hand on his hip, weight resting on one leg and twirling another snowball his free hand. He gave his own little smirk at the Dalish hunter. Both stared at each other for only a heartbeat before Lavellan made a half chuckled out 'Ooh~' and went to scoop up more snow into this hands. Solas took this as a chance to throw the other he had in his hand, but missed the young hunter. The two elves threw out elvhen words of jest before Lavellan started to struggle to get out an actually decent sounding word of elvhen that didn't sound all garbled. Their little snowball squabble was heard and people started to come over to look out of curiosity of what was going on.

"Well, I'll be a nug's uncle..." Varric chuckled, seeing the two elves. "Finally, it seems they've made up."

"Are they fighting again?!" Cassandra came storming over, as if to stop them, but Varric got in her way.

"They're not fighting," he reassured her, but Cassandra scoffed. "They're play fighting. Have you never been part of a friendly snowball fight before, Seeker?"

Cassandra was about to say something back to the dwarf when she was hit by snow. Varric laughed and the Seeker turned her head towards the culprits. Lavellan laughed and then bolted when Cassandra came after him. Varric watched with a chuckle and a smile then joined in himself. Others started to join in, Lelianna watched from where she sat by the campfire with one of her ravens. The child that Lavellan helped reunited with her mother giggled and ran about then around towards the Dalish hunter. She tugged at his coat and he looked down curiously at what pulled at him.

"*Aneth ara, Da'len." he smiled and received another giggle in response.

The little girl reached her arms up, wanting to be picked up. Lavellan picked up and placed her on his shoulders. The little girl squealed joyfully as the Dalish hunter trotted about, keeping her braced from falling. Lavellan would, once in a while, bend down and scoop up snow with one hand and hold it up for the little girl to make snowballs. In which, she would throw at the other soldiers and a few civilians that joined in the snow fight. Dalish and Skinner would also hand off snow to the little girl and act as her back-up.

This all started with a hart "guiding" her Dalish rider towards an elven mage. In hopes of some form of friendship to be made. Ghilan'revasan, 'A guide to the place where freedom dwells.' Possibly a guide towards help to ease something that dwells in two elvhen hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Dareth - "Be safe."  
> *Ma serannas - "Thank you/You have my thanks."  
> *Banal - "No."  
> *Fenehdis - a common curse, probably means crap/shit.  
> *Aneth ara, Da'len. - "My safe place, little one." a friendly greetings, mainly used between other Dalish than strangers.


	4. Chapter 4

Lavellan sat within the meeting boredly listening to AmbassadorJosephine and Commander Cullen bicker. Honestly, he wasn't listening to half what was being said. Leliana eyed him thoughtfully as she was doing her best not to giggle. Clearing her throat, the fledgeling Inquisition's Spymaster drew everyone's attention. "Let's settle this matter later for now. Inquisitor, my agents have reported sightings of Red Templars in Emprise du Lion and something unnerving in the Western Approach. So far, we haven't located the where abouts of the missing Grey Wardens or reason of their silence."

Lavellan gave a nod of his head, stepping up towards tbe war table. He plucked one of the strategic markers and twirled it in his hand. "I will look into it, thank you for the report." smoldering amber eyes looked to Josephine and Cullen then, the two humans going still. "If you all will excuse me, I need to gather supplies and pack for the venture to Crestwood. Lady Hawke mentioned a Grey Warden friend. Maybe they could help us figure out what's going on..." 'And maybe clear up what in the Creators name Corypheus is...'

Solas sat cross-legged on the cool stone floor. He worked carefully and diligently on finishing his second fresco. Hazel eyes glanced up at his work, a painted visual of Lavellan's desicion at Redcliffe. Closing his eyes, the elven mage breathed slow and steadily before standing. Solas moved to set his tools of work on the wooden desk in the middle of the room. "Hello, Cole." he smiled gently to the young, wide eyed lanky boy peeking over the desk.

Cole stood up, worrying his hands in front of him with his head low. "The smell of pine and leather, burning amber golds like the fierce flames of the hearth. What can I do to make it up to him..." the spirit boy's unusual rambling took Solas off guard. Cole lifted his head, pale blues staring at him. "Talk to him." The elven mage looked at the boy with a furrowed, confused brow. Then it dawned on him.

Solas cleared his throat, "It is not that easy, Spirit."

Cole moved around the desk towards the fresco, tilting his head as if listening to something. He then started to move about the room, standing near the small walkway leading into the main great hall. The soft murmuring and chatter of the nobles and the like a soft buzzing humn. "The soft, whimsical lilt of his laughter at Varric's silly jests at the Seeker. Sad hazel pools as he retells his experiences in the Fade, of ancient wars and benevolent spirits whose names long forgetten over the ages..." the spirit boy had Solas backed up against the desk at his sudden appearance. "Talk to him."

As he blinked, the spirit was gone. Solas staightened up, glancing about the room. He gave a shake of his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'It is not that easy... Unless...' a thought came to Solas as he lifted his head up. "If I cannot get him to speak to me here... then perhaps the Fade..." he murmured to himself quietly.

Lavellan laid beneath the great oak in the middle of the atrium. He focused shutting out all the chatter of the people around him, focusing more on the sounds of nature itself. Soon, he drifted off to sleep, his body relaxing further. It felt like only a few moments had passed when ne opened his eyes. Smoldering golden ambers looked about his surroundings with a mischievious smile. The Dalish hunter stood up onto his feet then slipped away into the familiar undergrowth near Haven.

Solas had found himself near Haven's gates, staring up at them. He closed his eyes, taking slow even breaths. When he reopened them, he startled at the sight of a large wolf standing within the open doors of Haven's gate. The soft breeze wisped its platinum white coat about, but the sight of its eyes held the elven mage in place. They were the same smoldering golds like Lavellan's...

The large wolf watched him for the briefest of moment as it turned, trotting up the flight of steps. Solas snapped out of whatever trance he found himself and chased after the mysterious wolf. It had disappeared over the last of the steps leading up to Haven's chantry. The elven mage stopped into a slow, cautious step, looking about his surroundings for the creature.

As he began to near the chantry, something grasped at his arm and twisted it behind his back. Solas let out a startled gasp as his arm was held pinned, painlessly so, at his back, but when he attempted to turn his head - a hand shot around to cover his eyes, holding his head back. The elven mage grasped with his free hand at his assailent's wrist, gripping firmly. He went completely still as a familiar warm, thick velvety voice whispered low in his ear.

"It is dangerous casually poking around in my dreams," Solas sucked in a breath, his heart unexpectedly lept into his throat as he bloomed uncharacteristically across his cheeks. "If you wanted to talked, just come to my quarters... but for now, it best once we both-

-Wake up." Solas jolted awake as those two words rang in his head.

He shook his head, sighing heavily as he moved into a more proper sitting position. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows upon his knees as he placed his face into his hands. 'How did he... He's not even a mage! The mark mayhaps...'

Solas lifted his head up at the sound of footsteps bounding down the stairs to his right. Dorian appeared from the doorway, making it halfway towards the doors leading to the great hall. The Tevinter mage paused midstep, turning on his heel to face Solas. He beamed a smile to the elven mage in greeting. "Ah! Good afternoon, Solas! Have a nice nap, I hope?"

"Yes... it was quite all right." Solas responded, politely smiling as he waved his hand dismissively. Dorian excused himself, saying goodbye to the elven mage for now as he disappeared into great hall.

Solas sighed once more, but softly as he stood up. Rubbing at his neck, he glanced over his desk then towards the doors Dorian disappeared through. He could hear the loud murmuring and boisterious chatter of the nobles. With a shake of his head, giving up any reasoning to attempt to avoid the situation with the Inquisitor any longer. 'Best to get this over with than attempt another visit in the Fade...'

Now back within his private quarters, Lavellan sat lounging back in the chair at his desk with his boots propped up on it. He nonchalantly stared at the small carved howling wolf's head pendant around his neck, twirling it carefully in his fingers. He thought back on the heated arguements between him and Solas. The snowball fight they had on their way to Skyhold. Eventually, the two elves got right back into the arguements... though worse than before.

If he was to be honest, he didn't hate the bare faced mage. Lavellan was just overly frustated with the way Solas sometimes talked down tne Dalish and his reluctance in even sharing the knowledge he found of their past history. The Dalish Hunter heard a knock at his door. He straightened up, tucking the pendant back underneath his Dalish style tunic. Lavellan stood up when the door opened and soft barefooted steps made their way up the stairs.

Lavellan stared at the elven mage, who paused at the top of the steps with a hand resting on the bannister. "Solas," the Dalish hunter spoke.

"Hello, Inquisitor." Solas responded back, gentle - carefully.


	5. Chapter 5

Lavellan crouched at the fireplace in his room, tossing another log in and stoking it. Solas had kept himself occupied glancing over the small collection of books and tomes. He turned his gaze slight at the Dalish hunter's desk, catching sight of a copy of one of Varric's books. The elven mage stepped closer, brushing his fingertips along the smooth top of the desk. Solas hadn't noticed that Lavellan had stood, now staring right at him.

The Dalish hunter gave a slight tilt of his head, long platinum white hair bound loosely over his left shoulder. "*Atish'an... Ma falon?" Lavellan spoke clear and soft, Solas' head snapping up. The Dalish hunter's gaze was firm and... hopeful? Did Solas understand correctly of what he heard and saw within Lavellan's eyes?

The elven mage wasn't sure what to say at first, looked to his left then awkwardly gave a nod of his head. He gazed back up to the Dalish hunter, finding a small smile painted itself across Lavellan's lips. Lavellan gestured towards the hearth and Solas followed the motion with his eyes, spying a kettle had been placed over the fire. "Tea?" Lavellan asked.

Habitually, Solas' face scrunched up at the mention of the flavored watery drink. "No, I detest the stuf- Ah, *ir abelas, I wasn't meaning to sound rude. Ma serannas though..." Lavellan bit the inside of his lip to reframe from commenting, giving a nod of his head.

"It's quite all right." Lavellan said, moving a chair to his desk to offer the elven mage a seat.

Solas thanked him as be moved around the desk and sat down. The Dalish hunter sat within his seat, casually lounging back again and propped his boots up on the desk like earlier. Solas eyed him briefly for it, cleared his throat and settled not to speak on it in case of sparking a fight. He didn't come here to argue. Both of the elves sat in an awkward silence, either glancing about the room or looking down at their hands.

"So, uhm," Lavellan cleared his throat, shifting in his seat for a moment. "How are you?" internally he cringed at his own starting question.

Solas gave a slight nod-tilt of his head. "Fine, thank you."

Again, they fell right back into the silence, both shifting in their seats. Lavellan thought over things to say, of what he wanted to say, but struggled to put them into proper words that didn't sound offending. Golden ambers glanced up to the elven mage then briefly rested upon the jawbone Solas wore tired around his neck.

"That bone pendant... is the jawbone of a wolf?" Solas stiffened at the question, not expecting the Dalish hunter asking such a thing.

"Ah... yes. Yes, it is," Solas muttered, grasping the jawbone in his hand as he held it firm against his chest. Lavellan eyed Solas carefully, watching the movements of his body, the perplexed expression that danced across is visage. Even the uneasiness in the elven mage's eyes didn't go unnoticed by the Dalish hunter. Lavellan leaned back in his seat a bit more, his head tilted slight to the right as he rested his hand against his chin right up against his bottom lip. If he focused more there was no doubt he would be able to hear the mage's heart thrumming rapidly in his chest.

Lavellan observed every little gesture, each shift of Solas' body as he adjusted in his seat. Golden ambers eyed the curve of the mage's throat, the way his lean muscles and the tendons of his neck shifted and flexed as Solas visibly swallowed. The Dalish hunter picked up quickly, the moment Solas had entered his quarters honestly, the other's nervousness. It almost reminded him how prey reacted to a predator... Though, Lavellan knew better to fall for such a trick of feigned innoscence. There was something Solas was keeping secret and one way or another, the hunter will find the answer.

"So," Solas nearly started at the sound of Lavellan's smooth voice slicing the silence between them. Lavellan shifted, loosely draping hid arms over his chest as he crossed them, his head tilted. The elven mage watched as Lavellan's loosely bound platinum hair cascaded over his shoulder. "I remember you mentioned there were more elven artifacts like the one we found a few weeks ago."

"The one-" Solas cleared his throat, "You are speaking of the one we found in the Hinterlands ruins?" Lavellan gave a nod of his head. "Ah. Possibly, though if you like I could mark possible locations of the others... If you are willing to look for them."

"If they are to help measure and strengthen the Veil, of course." Lavellan responded, moving to sit up properly now in his chair. "Solas?"

Solas lifted his head up from glancing down briefly. "Yes, Inquisitor?"

Lavellan refrained from pressing his lips in a firm line to the title. "Could you..." he paused, pondering his question carefully. "Do you have anymore stories during your wanderings in the Fade? That isn't my dream, of course." the Dalish hunter gave the mage a sly smirk that caused the mage to gulp, his heart skittering.

"Ah, y-yes. What would you like to know?" heat crept up Solas' throat, threatening to reach his cheeks and blossom color across them.

Lavellan smiled; warm, playful... inviting. The rest of the afternoon, Lavellan listened to Solas' prattle that ranged from calm to excited then back to a soothing calm. He missed this... in all honesty, he wanted nothing more than to just listen to Solas speak, but his own pride got in the way each time they fought. Maybe this time the two could work it out. Just this felt promising. The Dalish hunter did, however, wanted to question Solas why he ventured into his dream. For now, he thought to withold from questioning. He didn't want to ruin this peaciful moment.


	6. Chapter 6

Solas paced back and forth in the great hall, Cassandra watching him from where she stood. The Seeker noticed the elven mage bite at his thumb, the worry reflected in his features. She shared the same feeling since not that long ago, a few days ago, they had recieved word that the Inquisitor had disappeared at Adament. 'Physically! Into the Fade no less, Fenhedis!' Solas punched the closest Halla statue to him, gritting his teeth against the pain. Cassandra took a step closer to Solas, calling out his name im concern.

"I'm fine." he bit out, drawing his fisted, shaking hand to his chest. Hazel eyes glanced down to scraped, bloody knuckles, cursing at himself. He didn't give the Seeker a chance nor a glance in her direction as he stormed off towards the atrium. Many of the few deligates and various visitors and pilgrims eyed him warily or completely avoided him.

The elven mage stalked towards the gazebo, one of the few places he's seen Lavellan perch. When he reached it, he stopped abruptly at the bottom step. He couldn't hear much of anything of his surroundings as blood roared through his veins. His heart thudded rapidly as his chest rose and fell to his breathing. The elven mage's body shook light as despair soon steadily sunk into his being. He dreaded the thought of Lavellan never returning. After they had just finally made some slow and steady progress into a friendship, Solas felt like it was slipping through his fingers. And he. Hated. It.

Solas took slow steps up into the gazebo, his eyes trailing towards the spot where he has found Lavellan fast asleep with a book. He wandered over towards the curved stone bench absent-mindedly as his mind wandered. Memories of when Lavellan beaten Cullen at a game of chess and when Lavellan was swarmed with the few children present at Skyhold, retelling some of his clan's stories and of some of his adventures. Though, the memories that really wrenched at Solas' heart were of when he and Lavellan would briefly meet.

He would share more of his tales what he has seen in the Fade or during his travels, answered curious questions of lost elven history that he knew. Lavellan was truly the first Dalish willing to listen and not chase him away because of fear of superstitions. Solas sat down and leaned back, closed his eyes and allowed his head to fall back. As much as his hand still hurt from moments ago, he did his best to ignore it and focus on other things.

"-las. Solas!"

Solas jolted awake, his head snapping up. 'When did I...?' Hazel eyes wide and alert, he looked sharply about himself before his gaze rested on the Seeker. She appeared out of breath, her visage showing relief even though concern a still danced in her eyes. He relaxed, pushing himself up to stand. "Seeker, what br-"

"They're back! The Inquisitor has returned!" she delcared and Solas reeled at it.

Without a second thought, Solas darted passed her in a dead run, weaving though people in the way with ease. He burst through the door leading into the great hall and spotted Lavellan near the throne and the door to his quarters. The Dalish was surrounded by a few of their comrades. Lavellan looked exhausted, disheveled and appeared favoring his right leg as he spoke to everyone. Lavellan noticed Solas coming towards them and he greeted the mage, only to recieve a hard right hook that knocked him off kilter and slumped against the wall, barely on his feet.

His lip bruised and bleeding, Lavellan glanced up. Solas was furiated along with so many emotions that roiled through him. The Dalish hunter lifted his head, barely, as he lolled it to one side. Be gave the elven mage a half crooked grin, smoldering ambers half-lidded as he touched his throbbing jaw. "Well, hello to you too." he rumbled a low chuckle.

Everyone was shocked into silence at what had happened. None of them thought Solas was capable of doing what he had just did, since he mainly kept to himself.

"That's all you have to say?!" Solas raged, "You disappeared into the Fade! None of us knew if you were alive or coming back and all you say is-?!" Lavellan had pushed off the wall and stepped right up to Solas, not sparing an inch between them. Solas was forced to tilt his head up some at their apparent height difference. The elven mage shuddered and supressed a gasp at the look Lavellan was giving. The Dalish hunter's eyes were locked with his, his expression firm and dominating.

"My quarters. Now." Lavellan's voice was cold and cut.

The Dalish hunter turned from everyone, disappearing through the door. Solas swayed on his feet, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Now nervous hazel eyes glanced to the others and they either looked at him still stunned or avoided his gaze. The elven mage swallowed, looked down at his feet then up to the door. He the. too disappeared through it as he followed after Lavellan.

Solas cautiously walked up the steps as he made his way to the Dalish hunter's sleeping quarters. When he made it to the top step, he found Lavellan in the middle of his room with his back towards the mage. Solas rubbed gingerly at his wounded hand as he glanced down again before to Lavellan again. The elven mage moved carefully towards Lavellan, lifting a hand up. "Lavellan?"

The elven mage let out a small cry of surprise as Lavellan spun around and grasped his wrist. As quick as the Dalish hunter was, Solas found himself on his back on the never been laid upon bed. Lavellan had him pinned down by his wrists as he hovered over Solas while on his knees. "Wha- Get off me!" Solas exclaimed, struggling against Lavellan's hold.

He winced when the Dalish hunter tightened his grip, the sharp ends of his clawed plated gauntlets biting into Solas' skin. He then went completely stock still when Lavellan lowered his head, resting his forehead against the mage's shoulder. Solas turned his head slight, just enough to try and look at the Dalish hunter, though it was difficult to see most of his face with his hair in the way. "Ir abelas..." the faint, broken whisper squeezed at Solas' heart.

When he shifted, Lavellan's grip went lax and Solas took the chance to slowly sit up. Lavellan moved to sit on the edge of the bed, hunched forward with his arms draped over his knees. The elven mage watched him, reading Lavellan's body language as feeling defeated. Hurt. Lost. When he touched Lavellan's coat clad back, the Dalish hunter lifted his head. Some form of understanding passed silently between the two and Lavellan moved onto the floor.

His next course of action took Solas by surprise, but not like earlier. Lavellan took it steady, moving to sit on his knees between tne elven mage's legs and hugged around his waist. Solas lifted both his arms during this, not knowing what to do. He coaxed Lavellan to sit up once more, only long enough to work getting his gauntlets off. He the slipped his hands over Lavellan's shoulders under his coat, sliding the slight heavy material off his frame. Solas placed it aside with Lavellan's gauntlets and the Dalish hunter took the chance to settle back into his previous position.

The elven mage draped one arm over Lavellan's shoulders while with his free hand, gently brushed and combed it through Lavellan's hair. The Dalish hunter let out a soft sigh, relaxing further. The longer the two remained like this the more Solas started to pick up something bothered Lavellan greatly. "What troubles you, ma falon?" he murmured softly.

Lavellan opened his eyes, surprised to hear Solas call him friend. He lifted his head up, golden ambers gazing up to him. But they soon clouded and darkened at the memories when he faced the Terror demon. He didn't want to speak of it now. Didn't want to relive it. Solas' gaze shown concern as he looked back into those pools of gold. "Lavellan-?" Solas paused at the touch of Lavellan's bare hand against his cheek.

The Dalish hunter tried his best to think of other things than the words of the demon. Than the images thrown upon him by Terror... twisting and perverting them to get underneith Lavellan's skin. It had worked, such thoughts tormented the hunter on his long journel back to Skyhold. Wanting so much to...

"Fenhedis!" Lavellan was shoved to the ground as Solas jumped to his feet. Utter shock and horror crossed his features as he covered his mouth. Lavellan pushed himself back up into a sitting pushing, his eyes downcasted. "Why would you-! I'm leaving." with that, Solas quickly left.

Lavellan did not pursue him. He simply fell back onto his back and draped an arm over his closed eyes. He let out a heavy sigh, his free hand grasping at his chest over his heart. The Dalish hunter gritted his teeth, fighting so hard not to make a sound as tears flowed silently down his cheeks.

'Creators... I screwed up...'


	7. Chapter 7

Solas had slammed the door behind him as he left, making a quick get-away towards his chosen santuary. He passed Varric without acknowledging him as the rogue greeted him. Varric was left confused and equally concerned. It didn't escape the dwarf or anyone present in the Great Hall of the door to the Inquisitor's rooms being slammed shut; an elven mage speeding away like a dragonling was snapping at his heels. Varric pondered for a moment, pulling out his chair at the table near the lively hearth. He picked up his quill, twirled it in his hand. Varric frowned, setting it down and shook his head, scooted out of his seat and followed where Solas ran off to.

Said elven mage was pacing to and fro in his circluar room of his painted frescos. He paced and paced, his heart thundering in his chest like a blacksmith's hammer to white hot metal. He rubbed at his face, stopped and stared at nothing in particular as his mind reeled over moments earlier. 'Lavellan... He... he kissed me!'

He was such in a panic over this he hadn't even notice Varric standing there. The dwarf watched Solas frantically pace about, running a hand over his smooth bald head. "What's the matter, Chuckles? What's gotten you all riled up?" Varric called, snapping Solas out of whatever had him.

Solas jumped, startled by Varric's voice ringing in his ears. "Varric!" he tried to calm himself, smoothing his hands over his tunic looking away at anything to his left. He turned his attention back to the rogue, cleared his throat and done his best to gather himself and appear calm. Unfortunately, it didn't fool Varric. "Nothing... Nothing's the matter. What can I do for you?"

Varric gave him a look, as if chastising a child as he waggled a finger at the elf and tsked. "Now, don't you try getting anything passed me." the rogue heaved a sigh and shook his head, placing his hands at his hips. "Can't you elves play nicely?"

Solas gaped for a moment then frowned. "When can anyone get along with a Dalish?" he snapped, "They are so stuck in their ways of following what they do not entirely understand!" he went still, shocked as the words left him.

Varric sighed, looking up to Solas with a gentle, friendly gaze. "I'm not the only one to notice that you both aren't fighting as much like before; working it out. Lavellan does value having you as a friend... you both are just so stubborn."

Te elven mage glanced away, his shoulders slumped as he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll admit... he's different from any Dalish I have met. First to listen to a different voice about their beliefs..." he murmured softly. He jolted when the kiss flitted through his mind. His cheeks burned pink and he shut his eyes, curling his lips in a grimace as he groaned.

Varric's broe furrowed as he eyed Solas, "You all right there?"

"I'm... fine. Just fine. It's nothing." he waved his hand in a shooing motion, wanting to be left alone. Varric heaved a sigh, shaking his head.

"Alright, I get the message. Whatever happened between you two, just... I don't know... don't go at eachothers' throats?" and with that, the rogue left him be.

Solas placed his hands on the desk, gripping at the edges as he leaned over it with his head hung low. With eyes closed, he tried his best not to think about what had happened back up in Lavellan's room. 'Why did he...? I'm not... is he playing with me?' Solas frowned as he shook his head, remembering the look on Lavellan's face. 'Never knew he prefered... or...' the elven mage let out a frustrated sound, knocking books off his desk as he swiped his arm.

"It hurts..." Cole whimper whispered from above. Solas turned, lifting his head up to see the lanky boy sitting on the edge of the wooden scaffolding.

"Cole?" Solas called up to him.

Solas went still as the spirit boy lifted his head, tears in those wide pale blues. Cole lowered his head, back to his usual swaying to and fro as he gently swayed his legs. "The way he looked at me, disgust... horror. I messed up... I shouldn't have. Fear gnawing at the inside, squeezing, constricting all around in darkness. No, no... Won't lose him... Not to-," Solas jolted when Cole appeared in front of him. "He's hurting, Solas... but he won't let me help."

It clicked and Solas fell back into his desk, leaning against it. "You are meaning Lavellan?" the boy nodded his head, grasping both hands at his chest as he whimpered and sniffled. "Were you with him at Adamant, Cole? What happened?"

Nearly a week had went by and no one had seen the Inquisitor leave his room even once. Leliana, occassionally Cassandra, have tried to see him. Leliana rushing out, miffed by something that transpired between them, and Cassandra shutting back and throwing back whatever had been thrown at her. A fuming Seeker meant Hell for everyone else that crossed her war path towards the practice dummies. A couple of times, Varric even tried coaxing their Dalish friend to at least eat something... and lay off whatever he had left of his clan's brew.

Solas worked silently at another fresco depicting Adamant, or what decision had taken place from what he has heard from Iron Bull and Dorian. He noticed the two were also shaken up, but not as badly the Dalish hunter was. The elven mage set down his brush and sighed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back. He then stared up towards the spiraling ceiling and the floor of the library in thought. He caught sight of Dorian leaning forward against the bannister, appearing crestfallen.

He set the rest of his tools down and twisted around, still looking up towards the Tevinter mage. "Dorian," he called up and the Tevinter mage looked down.

"Ah, hello, Solas." Dorian called back, not as cheerful as he usually was. "What can I do for you?"

The elven mage stood up, brushing his hands off. "May I come up to speak with you?"

Dorian cocked a brow and waved his hand, gesturing towards the whole floor of the library. "It's an open library, no?" he jested.

Solas' lips quirked slight and he gave a nod. "Ah, yes, of course. How silly of me." the elven mage made his way up the spiral staircase and met with Dorian in his usual nook of the library. The Tevinter mage sat down in the chair and Solas leaned up against the windowframe. "I wanted to ask you-"

"About what happened at Adamant, I pressume?" Dorian questioned calmly.

Solas blinked, gave a nod of his head and cleared his throat. "If it is not too much trouble to ask... from what I have heard bits and pieves of, it wasn't a pleasant fight."

"It was far worse in the Fade," Dorian admitted, fighting back a grimace. "Didn't help much with a Fear demon prodding at us while trying to get back into our physical world. It..." Dorian lookes down at his hands sorrowfully. "It took a huge blow to the Inquisitor. None of us know what the Fear demon had said or shown him, but," the Tevinter mage sighed, giving a shake of his head. "Whatever it was it took its toll... he hasn't been the same since. On the journey home, he completely avoided everyone, jumped at every little noise, every shadow... Almost slit my throat once." Solas winced, understanding that the two were rather close friends. To have a friend nearly kill you though.. "I understood he wasn't trying to kill me, I just took him by surprise..."

"Could you... Do you think you can talk to him, Solas?" Dorian asked, snapping Solas out of thought.

The elven mage stared at him in disbelief. "I beg pardon?" did he hear Dorian right?

The Tevinter mage shifted in his seat, looking directly at him. "None of us know what the Fear demon said to him because it was in elvhen."

Solas' brow furrowed, shifting his weight as he leaned away from the window. "Do you remember what was said?" Dorian looked away as he thought hard on what words were said. He snapped his fingers as his expression brightened when he remembered.

"I believe it was, 'Fen'Harel din'an sahlin, Fen'Elgar. Dirthara nadas." Dorian's face scrunched, having tried his best not to butcher the elvhen tongue. "What we did understand is that Fen'Harel stands for- Solas, are you all right there?"

The elven mage wasn't all right, his body rigid and all color drained from his face. Solas pushed off the window, his footing a bit unsteady. He smoothed a shaky hand over his head. "M-Ma serranas, Dorian. I need to go.." the elven mage left quickly, his gait stiff as he made his way down the stairs.

Those words Dorian recited to Solas on what was said to Lavellan in the Fade.

'Dread Wolf's time will come, Spirit Wolf. Death is inevitable.'


	8. Chapter 8

Lavellan stood bare foot, bare chested and only in a pair of pants - a dishevelled mess. He was leaning against the stone frame of one of the two doors leading out to his balcony. Golden ambers stared blankly into the flickering flames of the hearth. They never left the fire as he lifted the open of a bottle to his lips, taking another swig of the spiced brew. No longer feeling the tingling burn as it washed down his throat. The dalish hunter pushed off the stone doorframe, swaying on his feet.

The chilled breeze whisked through into his bedroom, dancing with the hearth's flames as it made it crackle. Lavellan staggered as he turned, slumping his shoulder against the wall not even a foot away from the doorway he pushed from. With his head low and pressed into the crook of his arm perched against the wall, a grimace crossed his newly scarred lip. In a grunting huff, he attempted to straighten up and steady himself. At first, he didn't notice the door leading to his chambers open. Not until he reached the couch up against the bannister. A growl sounded from him as he acknowledge the elven mage's presence.

"What do you want?" he bit out, falling back into the couch. Solas paused at the top of the steps, his brow furrowed as he looked over the obviously drunken Dalish hunter. "Come here to teach me a lesson or somethin', Flat ear?" Lavellan's words were nearly drawled out in a slur at the end.

"Have you been drinking yourself away this entire time?" Solas attempted to hide his concern, trying his best to sound more none too pleased instead. The elven mage stepped right up to snatch the now nearly empty bottle. Lavellan resisted, ambers smoldering as he glared daggers at him.

"Piss off." Lavellan snapped, bracing his forearm against Solas' chest. The mage wasn't having it. With a flick of his wrist as he stepped back, the bottle flew out of Lavellan's hand. It twirled over the bannister behind the hunter and dropped all the way to the bottom. The sound of glass shattering on impact echoed and it left Lavellan glaring in disbelief. "Oi! That's-"

"Everyone is worried sick!" Solas snapped, the barely contained anger in his voice shutting Lavellan up. The look the Dalish hunter was giving was one of shock. Though, through his drunken haze, he swore to the elven gods the mage sounded worried himself.

"You've locked yourself up here since your return from Adamant. Seeker Cassandra has tried reasoning with you to eat to... to... Fenehdis! Just look at yourself!" Solas waved his hand about. "For one such as yourself going about the Pride of the Dalish, you look nor are you acting nothing like the proud Dalish hunter you claim to be."

Lavellan stared at him grimly, pushing himself up into more of a sitting position. Well, as much as a proper position could steady himself in. The Dalish hunter's smoldering golds narrowed, lips pressed in a thin line as he continued to glare at Solas. The elven mage jolted at the intensity of Lavellan's gaze. He attempted to move away, to turn the other direction, but the sudden firm and nearly painful grip at his forearm caused him to hiss. He was yanked around, forced to face Lavellan. The hunter grasped at Solas' jaw tightly with his free hand to keep him from looking away.

"You want to know what happened? Want to see- feel what I felt in the Fade?" Lavellan seethed between clenched teeth, nearly standing flush up against the mage. "Then let me show you." he snarled and the next thing Solas knew, he was spiraling into the darkness.

The elven mage gasped, his chest heaving as he fought for breath. Waves of freezing cold and burning heat washed over his body and senses; blinding him as he let out a pained cry. Sense of time was lost to him... it felt like hours, years, as the torment continued wracking his body. No matter how many times Solas tried to fight against it, open his eyes, the pain only increased. Darkness always there with a sharp coldness burying itself deeper into his chest.

He fought for breath, gasping through clenched teeth against the searing pain. Demonic laughter and screeching then assaulted his ears. He grimaced, lips curled over bared clenched teeth. Agonizing pain scorched throigh his being as if felt like sharp teeth and claws tore at his flesh. Solas tried to call out for it to stop, only to not hear his own voice tear from his raw throat. 

A wolf's pained howling sounded from him and when he opened his one final time... He found himself witnessing an entirely different being from himself being tortured. The elven mage looked down at himself, placed his hands at his chest as he gave himself a once over. He was no longer the one being tortured, but he still felt the pain linger. When his eyes snapped back up as elvhen poured in curses over the stranger's tongue. He couldn't make out their face hidden beneath a white wolf headdress. 

He could make out the other elf as male and noticed platinum white hair cascaded over strong, trembling shoulders. He recognized the familiar marking appeared painting on the strange elf's right exposed pectoral. He also recognized the robes that the ancient elves wore centuries ago. Solas was utterly shocked as he watched the ancient elf before him continue to cry, grunt and curse as he writhed in agony. 

"Forfeit, Fen'Elgar. You cannot stop the Elder One... Nor can you save your precious 'God'. His deathbis inevitable." the Nightmare's voice boomed menacingly in the darkness. The ancient elf before Solas howled out in pain as an unseen force lashed at him. The elf's wolf dressed head fell forward then low rumbling, strained laughed sounded from him. 

"He does not claim to be. Only the weak claw at and claim Godhood they arrogantly deem belongs to them." Solas' heart nearly stopped as it felt like it lodged itself in his throat. 

'That voice... It can't be...' The Nightmare snarled angrily, Solas winced as the now seemingly familiar elf writhed and struggled as he was put through more agony worse than before. "Enough...." he uttered. He covered his ears and shut his eyes as the tearing of flesh and breaking of bone rang out. "Lavellan, enough!" the elven mage hollered. Everything went quiet then. Dead silence hummed in Solas' ears. 

He opened his eyes cautiously, his vision clearing enough to see wrapped feet and legs like his own, but... Facing towards him. The elven mage looked up. Those all too familiar piercing smoldering ambers stared right back at him. The elf standing before him he could clearly see was Lavellan, but he couldn't understand why the Dalish hunter looked like a temple priest from long ago. 

"Wake up." Lavellan's voice rang, lips unmoving.

Solas jolted upright, his breathing quick and his heart racing. The elven mage could still feel the phantom pains from what he experienced what felt like a mirrored version of the Fade from when Lavellan and the others disappeared. Hazel eyes roamed the now dimly lit quarters of the Inquisitor's. Trying to figure out how long he was out for. Solas' eyes found the Dalish hunter right beside him, but still out cold. He reached over to shake him awake gently, but stopped before even touching Lavellan. 

Solas pulled back, scooting away while covering his mouth. He was still shaken up by what just happened, still processing it all. The elven mage shook his head and carefully went to scoop up the Dalish hunter. Solas grunted a little, rebalancing himself as he supported Lavellan's weight. He carried Lavellan to the bed, gently laying him down. The elven mage checked the hunter over, making sure he was truly alright.

Solas heaved a sigh, pushing himself up off the mattress and glanced over Lavellan's bare chest. There was no marking there... His brow furrowed and he stepped away, shaking his head. 'I'll... I'll return tomorrow, question him what was that I had just seen.' Solas checked Lavellan once more, satisfied the Dalish hunter was now just sleeping, he covered him up and left.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, Lavellan awoke with a groan. He grimaced as the sun stung his eyes and a splitting headache throbbed throughout his entire skull. The Dalish hunter draped an arm over his eyes and grunted, fighting back the nausea that hit him a few moments later. 'That will be the last time I drink Darin's surprise brew...' Lavellan carefully rolled over onto his side, snagging the pillow from underneath his own head and hugged it over his face - trying to block out the noises from below of sparring soldiers and the all too bright sun. 

"Good morning, sunshine! Time to get out of bed and meet some snobby Orlesian nobles!" Dorian's voice rang painfully loud to the poor hung over elf's ears.

"Go away..." Lavellan moaned, his voice muffled against the fabric of the pillow.

The Tevinter mage simply grinned a knowing grin as he stood at the foot of the bed. "So I take it the 'All-knowing-Baldy' muttering was correct last night." Dorian chuckled, receiving a groan in response. 

Amber eyes snapped open as his mind finally registered what Dorian said. Memories from last night flooding his fogged mind. Lavellan quickly shot up, but just as quickly regretted the motion. His stomach lurched up into his chest and the Dalish elf nearly fell sideways. He caught himself on the edge of the bed and the hacked up what was left of last night's said Dalish brew all over the floor. Dorian winced in sympathy, moving quickly pull back Lavellan's hair and rub his back. 'Too late now to get a pot...' the mage thought to himself. 

Once Lavellan was at a point of just dry heaving, Dorian helped the Dalish hunter out of bed and out towards the balcony. "Come on, my friend, some cool fresh air should help." Once they got outside, Lavellan leaned up against the stone wall and Dorian went back inside to get the elf's chair. "Here you go, easy does it now." Lavellan nodded his thanks to Dorian and carefully flopped down into the chair. He shut his eyes against the sun once more and sank in his seat, heaving a sigh.

"Thank you, Dorian... Have any of those potions you've talked so mich about? Ones against hangovers?" Lavellan hoarsely questioned. 

"I believe I still have a few, but unfortunately not on my person," the mage answered, "I could retrieve one from my room, if you would like?"

"Please?" Dorian nodded his head to the Dalish hunter, giving a gentle pat to his shoulder.

"I'll inform someone of the... Mess as well, make sure they also keep it discreet." after that, the Tevinter mage quickly left to retrieve the potion.

When Lavellan heard the door leading to his private quarters shut, he opened his eyes enough to stare up at the clear blue skies. He absent-mindesly reached a hand up to his chest, grasping where his wolf head pendant should have been hanging at. His heart skidded a couple beats as he sat up straight, looking downwards. Lavellan grimaced against another nearly blinding throb through his head, puahing himself up on wobbly legs. The Dalish hunter moved shakily back inside. 'Where is it?!' he panicked, searching frantically all over his desk, moving documents and tomes around; caused a few said documents to fall and scatter across the floor. He looked up, over towards his bookcase then towards his dresser. As he rounded his desk, making his way towards the dresser, something glinted in his peripheral - at his left.

He turned his head, grimaced in disgust at the mess at his bedside then turned his attention passed that. Near the couch, more like right underneath it, be spotted his pendant. Lavellan went over to retrieve it, confusion across his features as he tried to figure out how it got there. He wasn't even sure why he would take it off. The Dalish hunter crouched down, reached underneath the piece of furniture and plucked the pendant up. Lavellan gazed down at it, brushing his thumb across the detailed face of the carved howling wolf head.

Placing it back over his neck where it belonged, he grasped it tight in his fist, closing his eyes as he sighed out softly in relief. For as long as he could remember, the item was always with him. He couldn't remember how he came in possession of it, but deep down he knew it was very important. 

His ears perked at the sound of the door's latch creaking as it opened. Lavellan stood up at the right moment as Dorian cleared the top of the steps. The Tevinter mage paused, honestly surprised to see the Dalish hunter moving about already. 

"Feeling better already? I'm jealous of elven constitution!" Dorian said in jest, smiling as he held out the potion Lavellan had requested.

Lavellan smiled weakly, taking the small vial gratefully. "No, though I wish," he pulled the stopper and drank the cool, sweet liquid. Thankfully, already feeling the soothing effects. "Thank you, Dorian."

The Tevinter mage grinned, giving a small bow of his head. "You are very much welcome, my friend. So, what were you doing crouched at the sofa?" he asked curiously. 

"Ah... My pendant." Lavellan murmured, removing his hand to show the item to the mage. "For some reason I didn't have it on. I've never removed it in my life, as far as I can remember."

"Ah~, well we all do strange things when we're overly drunk. At least you have found it," Dorian said in attempts to ease whatever troubled Lavellan in the thought.

Lavellan gave a nod of his head, glancing over towards the ruined rug. "Have you said anything to the servants about the mess..?"

"Oh! I believed I haven't! Must have completely slipped my mind while lookong for one of those vials." Dorian said, gaving a snap of his fingers.

"Good, because I was thinking of getting rid of the damned thing anyways." Lavellan gave a sly grin in Dorian'a direction. "Want to set it on fire?"

"Maker, I thought you'd never ask!" Dorian dramatically swooned. "Southerners have no sense of style! Let's get this ugly thing out quickly before Josephine notices."

Lavellan laughed, joining the mage to roll up the ruined rug and try their best to sneak it away to safely burn the thing. Apparently, it was just much easier to burn it out on the balcony than carry the damned thing through the Great Hall.

\----

By the afternoon, Lavellan was stuck most of the time in the Great Hall. Listening to dignitaries and sat in judgement to a few of their recent prisoners. Like Erimond and another Venatori mage, whom prove to be far more useful than Erimond in the Inquistion's benifit. The one Venatori, well former Venatori, helped Leliana's spies gather intel of great importance. Mostly on information about the Elder One's plans that coincided with what Lavellan had seen. 

"This Elder One, Corypheus, plans on attacking Empress Celine next." Josephine and Leliana both looked rather perplexed about this piece of intel.

"Then we must warn her." Lavellan spoke.

"If we do, there is no guarantee our letter will reach her. Corypheus' Venatori could intercept it." Leliana gave a shake of her head.

"Then how can we warn-" Josephine then cut Lavellan off.

"Empress Celine will be holding a ball at the Winter Palace in the upcoming weeks. Given some time, I can procure an invitation for the Inquisition. It must be handled with diplomacy and great care not to offend the Nobles." the Inquisition's Lady Ambassador explained.

The Dalish hunter muttered low under his breath in elvhen, Cassandra barely showing a smile. Even though she couldn't understand what was said, but she had a guess it wasn't very nice towards Orlesian Nobility. With a sigh and wave of his hand, Lavellan turnes to leave. "Fine, fine. We'll do it their way... For now. Do what you can, Lady Montilyet."

Without much word of dismissal to Cassandra or the Advisors, Lavellan left the war room. He sighed heavily, massaging at his temples as he frowned. Humans frustrated him to no end with their... Games. 'Why can't they just be straightforward with everything? It'd make it so much easier to handle...' he groused to himself.

The Dalish hunter stepped out into the Great Hall, glancing over the sparse gathering of Inquisition soldiers and the very few nobles visiting Skyhold. Smoldering ambers gleamed over the dwarf rogue at his usual haunt in the Hall. Guilt spiked at Lavellan's heart as he remembered Adamant. He breathed slowly, steadily as he made his way towards Varric, the dwarf hunched over documents with an inked quill in his hand.

Lavellan stood a couple feet from Varric's right, quietly cleared his throat to snag Varric's attention. The dwarf paused, glanced over his shoulder and smiled tiredly at the elf.

"Ah, Inquisitor," Varric greeted him, set his quill aside and leaned back in his chair. "What can I do for you?"

"May I?" Lavellan nodded his head at the empty chair next to the dwarf. Varric gestured for him to and the Dalish hunter took a seat. "Varric... About Adamant..." he meekly started.

Varric's tired visage quickly turned into a pained one as he looked away. "Ah... About that... It's okay." Varric murmured.

Lavellan shook his head in disagreement. "No, it isn't okay. I'm sorry about Hawke... And I'm sorry about how I acted once we gotten back."

The rogue dwarf sighed soft, glancing up from his spectacles. Varric witnessed the torrent of emotions playing across the Dalish hunter's face as he stared into the hearth's flames. He reached over and gave Lavellan's forearm a squeeze. 

"Listen, that weird shit got to us all. None of us were really in a good headspace. And hey," Lavellan looked over to Varric and he continued, smiling reassuringly to his elven friend. "Hawke's okay and so is Stroud. What ever magic trick you did there with that mark made sure we all gotten out of there alive."

Lavellan looked at Varric in shock, "Hawke's... Alright? But I thought-- I saw..." he frowned in confusion as he stared down at the table.

Varric blinked, just as confused at Lavellan's own confusion of the matter. "Yeah... Don't you remember? Even though Hawke decided to stay and distract that huge ass demon, you turned around. Yelled something in elfish and threw the mark's power at it. You killed the Nightmare, you collapsed, sure, but as I said - we're all alive because of what you did."

The Dalish hunter looked back up to the dwarf then at his gauntletted hand that held the mark. He remembered seeing Hawke run at attack the Nightmare. Remembered the rest of them leaving the fade, him closing it and returning to Skyhold... Even most of his drunken stupor...

His head started to hurt again and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You alright, Inquisitor?" 

Lavellan gave a small nod of his head, moving to stand up. "Yes... I think? I should talk to Solas..."

Varric gave a nod of his head, "I... Heard you both had an argument the day we got back. Of course, he did punch you here, at the Inquisitor's chair... And ah... He looked rather troubled from last night." 

Lavellan looked at Varric questioningly. The said dwarf lifted his hands up, "In all honesty, no one has any clue what he was doing up there, but my guess is last night's talk wasn't at all pleasant either. Don't worry, I won't ask for any details." Varric tried to reassure Lavellan to that, "Chuckles is probably where he's always at."

"Thank you, Varric. We'll... Uh... Talk again very soon." Lavellan gave a small bow and excused himself, rounding behind Varric where the door leading towards the rotunda. Hoping nervously Solas was there.

\----

The said elven mage was present, his back towards Lavellan as he worked on touch-ups to one of the frescos. The Dalish hunter stood near Solas' desk, rocking back and forth slowly on his heels. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, looking down at his armored boots. "Yes, Inquisitor?"

The sound of Solas' voice jolted Levallan, surprising him. The Dalish hunter cleared his throat, looked up briefly at Solas' back then glanced away. "May I speak with you?"

The elven mage set his tools down, "Of course..." his response seemed a little... Strained. 

Lavellan glanced up when he heard the creaking of wood, seeing Dorian leaning against the curved railing with a curious look and sly smirk. The Dalish hunter groaned within himself, doing his best to keep an even look. "Alone, if that is alright?"

Dorian gave a slight pout, mouthing to the Dalish hunter 'Spoil sport' before chuckling softly and turning away back to his little nook. Lavellan lowered his gaze, his heart lurching as he met hazel. He carefully swallowed as Solas gestured towards him to lead the way. Lavellan gave a nod of his head and led the elven mage towards the Atrium. 

They both stepped into the gazebo, a place surprisingly secluded for the moment. But secluded long enough for both elves to talk. Lavellan sat down at his usual place in the gazebo, briefly fiddling with a clasp of one of his gauntlets. Solas prefered to remain near one of the stone pillars, leaning against it as he crossed his arms.

"I... Wanted to apologize for how I acted and for what ever I have done last night." Lavellan awkwardly spoke out, having a hard time actually looking in Solas' direction. 

The elven mage looked at Lavellan incredulously, his temper starting to rise up within him at such an apology.'How dare he! Does he think he can just simply sweep it under a rug?!' "Do not play coyly of the matter, Dalish." Solas snapped.

Lavellan's head snapped up and he balked at Solas' scoff. "I am not!" he stood up, his own anger roiling up. "I am being serious here! Whatever happened last night, I am sorry."

Solas scoffed, "Do you think playing it off as not remembering-"

Lavellan not got into Solas' face, baring his teeth as he snarled. "I don't remember!"

What few people were present all turned their heads in both the elves' direction. The Dalish hunter and elf mage felt eyes on them and looked over themselves. Lavellan piqued, feeling uncomfortablely embarressed and stepped back, turning away. Solas covered his mouth and looked away, clearing his throat. The elven mage glanced up at Lavellan's back, noticing that his ears were burning red. 'He's blushing...?' As far as he knew, Solas had never seen the Dalish hunter blush before.

"So... You truly don't remember...?" he softly, carefully asked.

Lavellan gave a shake of his head, not turning around just yet. "All I can remember is that you came up to my room, knocked a bottle iut of my hand and... Then I woke up this morn in a pitiful excuse shems call a bed..." murmured just loud enough for Solas to hear.

"Not even when you pulled us both through the Fade? Not physically, of course." Solas said.

The Dalish hunter turned just enough to gawk at the elven mage. "I did what?"

Solas pressed his lips into a firm line. 'Confronting him about who I saw, which clearly looked like him, in the Fade seems to be out of the question...' he sighed and shook his head, turning to walk towards the back of the gazebo.

"Solas, I'm not a mage, so how can I pull anyone into the Fade? I mean... Maybe the mark..? I don't know..." Lavellan sighed in frustration, carding a gauntlet hand through his unbound hair.

"I do not understand it either, but it I can assure you it wasn't done with the Mark..." Solas responded, sitting down and leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees, fingers laced together.

The Dalish hunter eyed the elven mage, loosley crossing his arms over his chest. "What... What did drunken me show you..?" he carefully questioned, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

Solas' brow furrowed in thought, his mind replaying last night's events. He breathed in deeply, straightening up before he even looked or answered. The elven mage rubbed his hands over his thighs a couple times before turning his hazel gaze at Lavellan.

"What you supposedly dealt with when you were physically there days ago, but..." he paused.

"But?" Lavellan tried to coax.

Solas gave Lavellan a very serious, no nonsense, look. "A different elf was in your place. He looked very much like you, though this one was definitely an elf from the time of the ancient Elvhen. A temple priest, from... What I can remember of my time exploring the memories of the Fade." Solas very carefully said.

"A.... Ancient elf...?" Lavellan barely spoke.

"Do you... Remember this phrase the Nightmare said? 'Fen'Harel din'an sahlin, Fen'Elgar. Dirthara nadas." the elven mage repeated the phrase to Lavellan.

Lavellan went still, his heart nearly halted in his chest and his head throbbed painfully. He tried his best not to grimace, placing a hand against forehead. Solas stood up, genuine concern showing across his face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm... Fine." the Dalish hunter said through clenched teeth. "Guessing Dorian's potion the hangover is wearing off. I'm... I'm going to head back to my quarters. Thank you for your time, Solas..." and the Dalish hunter left Solas at the gazebo as he made his way back into the Great Hall.

Solas stood there with his lips pressed firmly together. Mulling over Lavellan's reaction to the phrase. 'He's hiding something... Even if he can't seem to remember. Subconsiously, he knows...'


	10. Chapter 10

Solas roamed through the Atrium a little while longer, checking the various herbs and fruits he's seen Lavellan personally planted himself. He gently massaged a leaf from a young royal elfroot, the ends of each leaf already showing a slight blue-violet hue. Solas released it and glanced over to a blossoming fruit bearing plant. It's vines twisting and twining around the stone railing of the walk-way. He absent-mindedly felt the little white pelts, his mind wandering back to the one single day Skyhold experienced a much warmer day over a chilly early spring.

He paid no mind to anyone watching, didn't acknowledge their side-eyes or whispers as he walked about. He listened to the birds warbling in the trees, watched them dip, dive and flutter about in a form of dance as they played with one another. He paused as two human children ran by close in front of him, giggling and squealing as they chased each other about. 

The little game they played reminded him from long ago. With that thought, his mind snapped back to the ancient elf lavellan-version. He shook his head and frowned, deciding now was the best time to return to his work in the rotunda.

He briefly greeted Varric, not wanting to disturb him from his work too much. The elven mage was surprised to see Cole sitting cross-legged on his desk in the middle of the room. The spirit boy was swaying back and forth, seemingly staring at nothing.

"Hello, Co-"

"Spirally, swirling... Losing control. Cold dark a engulfing as blinding flashes of another's face mirroring my own... Who is he... Who is he... Wolf..." Cole mumbled the last word barely audible to Solas.

The elven mage furrowed his brow confused as he moved closer to the spirit boy. "Whose thoughts are you hearing?"

"Did you know, Vhenan," Cole lifted his head, those pale blue eyes staring right through Solas' core. "Wolves mate for life?"

Solas' heart skipped, his movement stopping dead. The elven stared directly into those pale blues as those very words tore open an old wound in his heart.

\-------

Back in his quarters, Lavenllan had stripped most of his armor off. Leaving just his pants and armored boots on. He curled in on himself on the bed, grunting as pain continued to pound away at his head. As if a druffilo was stomping his head into the gound, though at this point he was wishing it was a druffilo...

Sweat coated his brow, he half buried his pain twisted visage into the mattress. He dug his fingers into the covers, his fist clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. The demonic laughter of the Nightmare demon returned. The echoes of his agonizing screams against the tearing and shattering. The gnashing of teeth ripping into his shoulder.

He continued to grunt, writhe and grit against the pain. His thoughts racing, events he couldn't remember in his previous week long state blinded him. Soon, those flashes turned into ones he didn't quite recognize, but it strangely felt familiar.

In his current state, those horrid memories from Adamant melted into warmer, welcoming ones. Some from his hunts with his clan, but those were scant and quickly faded into the strangely familiar. Familiar yet unfamiliar faces of many people, one that appeared inferior to those far more well dressed and fed.

His pain addled mind recognized the lesser standing... Elves... Every single person he saw in brief flashes were elves. Many wore vasallin, while a large majority did not. Bare-faced elves held leashes to few vasallin decorated elves... It... Disgusted him.

'Fen'Harel wouldn't--- the Dread Wolf do what? Why... Why does the sight of vasallin disgust me... What does Fen'Harel....' a jab of searing pain tore across his skull as his mind dwelled further. He whimpered, his body shuddering.

'Fen'Harel...' he shut his eyes tighter, his jaw set painful taut. The Dread Wolf's name repeated through his thoughts until a very familiar appeared in his supposed memories... Of the past? A past life before this one?

The pain startes to subside as images of the elven man appeared more frequently. He had a strong jaw, long dark brunette dreads tied back with a small canine skull adorned at the top of his head halfway draped down his forehead. A mischievous gleam danced in familiar hazel eyes and a playful, all too knowing smirk painted on sensual lips... 'Ma vhenan...'

Lavellan's body relaxed, his breathing even. The memories were no longer rapidly turning about his head blindingly. One memory lingered, specifically on... Him.

"Did you know, Vhenan," the familiar male elf spoke, his voice a deep rumble in Lavellan's ear as he rested his chin on his shoulder. "Wolves mate for life?" the platinum white haired male smiled, leaning back against Fen'Harel. 

"Are you comparing us to wolves?" Lavellan... Fen'Elgar questioned, chuckling.

Fen'Harel squeezed his arms around the other a bit more firmly. He humned in his throat, still softly smiling. "What if I am? For all Elgar'nan cares to know, we might as well be." Fen'Harel nuzzled into his lover's neck, recieving a jolt and lilting laughter as the other male elf squirmed. 

"Solas, enough! That tickles!" Fen'Elgar said, his laughter warm and playful.

When the Dalish hunter opened his eyes, a shimmer crossed his amber eyes. He slowly sat up, the wolf head pendant gave off the same shimmer as his eyes did not moments ago. Lavellan brought a hand up, grasping the pendant in his hand. After he gathered his bearings, he glanced about the room, fully sitting up now as he sat at the edge of the bed.

With slow, even breaths, Lavellan stood up and steadily made his way into the wash room. There, he looked into the half body length mirror. The Dalish hunter studied his reflection, turning his head carefully side to side. To him, he didn't look very much different since that day... Just missing one detail. With that thought, he glanced down in the vicinity of his chest in the mirror. 'Make that two...'

He stared directly at his reflection in the eye, lifting a hand over to cover the left side of his face. He held it there for a moment before removing his hand. An unrecognizable vasallin-like marking was now visible curved from underneath his eye up towards his temple. A low chuckle sounded from him, closed his eyes and shook his head. "Aah~, Abelas... Why bother masking the markings when you're simply going to drop a disorientated temple priest suffering amnesia with this era's wild elves...?" he mused to himself. He repeated the dispel over his right pectoral, revealing an ancient elven tribalistic tattoo.

Lavellan checked himself one last time, clicked his tongue and went to work getting his hair under his terms of control. 'Let's see if he recognizes me now, silly wolf o' mine.'


	11. Chapter 11

The elven Inqyisitor pursed his lips as he stared, pouting, at his reflection. He had a second thought, snapping out of his excitement to finally be able to be himself and reclaim his age long lover. Lavellan hidden away his tattoos and replaced the "vasallin" markings with another simpler, easy illusion spell on top of the other.

Having suffered a six year long case of amnesia, his magic was rather rusty. Golden ambers glanced in the direction of his bow, snirked as he remembered one of the vastly larger Qunari's Chargers.... Dalish, he believed she was called. 'Guess my bow shall be my staff for now... As if I had need of one centuries ago...'

Lavellan heaved a sigh, hanging his head as he gripped the edges of the wash basin's table; leaning against it. As much as he didn't like the idea, he knew it probably be the best to keep his true identity secrect for now. Yes, even though moments ago he re-awoken he still retained his memories of his short six year life of being this era's nomadic Dalish. And oh did he enjoy those carefree days... 

The elven hunter-mage straightened up, a hand still lingering on the table while with the other brought the wolf pendant to his lips. "Forgive me, ma Vhenan... Just for a little longer, even if it pains me to do so..." he whispered to himself.

He knew the other was here, had been since the day the Breach appeared... And knew very well his previously forgetful self subconsciously wanted to pursue the elven mage. Oddly... Lavellan felt a bit jealous of the fact. Even though it was him, it really wasn't... Him attempting some form of courtship. 

The hunter-mage released the pendant as he turned on his heel, heading out of the washroom and back into the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, working on unclasping shin and foot guard armor and unlacing boots.

He also made quick work disgarding his leather trousers as he made way towards a certain chest. He got down on his knees, brushed his hand admiringly over the craftsmen work of his clan's craftsman. He unlatched the lock and pushed the lid up, finding exactly what he wanted, and silently thanked Abelas for not taking it.

He gathered up both armor sets, one of Dalish make and his old armor he wore during the Rebellion. Lavellan carried them over near the still warm hearth, carefully laying both sets out on the floor. He sat down beside them, after having pulled one of the larger pillows to shield his naked rump from the cold stone, and delicately started to take them apart. The hunter-mage diligently worked in melding elements of both armors, got an idea and quickly gathered up the set he shucked off earlier.

As time went by, the sun steadily began to settle behind him, he leaned back with a tired breath. A pleased smile on his lips as he glanced over his finished work. "There... That looks good enough." he praised himself.

Lavellan stood up and right at that moment, while wiping his hands together, a loud startled squeak sounded to his left. His head snapped to the side, smoldering golds wide in surprise, mostly not having heard Lady Montilyet coming in and up the steps. Her face was flushed red, her writing board shielding half her face as she embarrassingly glanced the other direction.

"F-Forgive me, your lordship! I-I didn't realize-- Oh, Maker..." Josephine stuttered, shuffling her feet nervously about.

"Hello, Lady Ambassador, curious of an elven man's--" he was only teasing..

"Maker, no!" the Inquisition's Lady Ambassador nearly shrieked, but still a pitch too high for Lavellan's poor sensitive ears. "I-I mean... I'm so sorry, I-I'll just-- There'sAMatterLadyPentaghastWishedToSpeakWithYou!" she spoke rather too quickly for him to catch fully, but the Antivan woman had darted back down the stairs and out the door before he could say anything.

The still rather naked hunter-mage blinked, gave a tilt of his head then simply shrugged. 'Heh, shemlen. So adorable when flustered.' he snickered to himself.

He went back about his business, cleaning up and setting aside the extra armor pieces in his wooden chest. Then gathered up the finished armor set and placed it carefully on one of the spare armor racks near the dresser. In that dresser, Lavellan pulled out the Dalish-styled casual outfit for Skyhold and began to dress.

The dark fabric leggings were comfortably snug. He then pulled on the form fitting soft brown tunic, fiddled with the tapered sleeves for a bit before buckling a simple three inch wide, thin leather belt at his waist. Moving towards the bed, where he found another pair of leather boots. They looked much taller, once put on, maybe a couple inches up passed his knees? Lavellan sat down and slipped his feet into one at a time, taking his time in lacing each boot up. 

Once finished, he stood up and glanced them over. Sure enough, the boots did go a little higher above his knees and appeared to mould pleasingly with the shape of his legs. He gave himself a once over, making sure everything was in order. Just as he was about to leave, Lavellan remembered something.

Earlier, in the washroom, he had done up his hair like he always had centuries ago. If he were to keep up a mask for now, he'd have to be careful to keep doing the things he had done before his awakening. So, the hunter-mage quickly undid the thin leather cord, finger-combed out his hair and hurried down the steps while tying back his hair in a loose low pony-tail. 'This will have to do for now.' he sighed, stepping out the door and right into the Great Hall.

\-----

Solas paced in the rotunda, Cole having left a long while back. He chewed on his bottom lip, Cole's words rolling over and over in his head. 'How...? It's been so long since I've remembered those words....but those were not my thoughts.' he paused, turned just barely to look towards the doorway, 'Lavellan's...?'

His brow furrowed, thinking about earlier that afternoon. Lavellan had left rather quickly, something having to do with his headache returning. Understandably, the elven hunter had drank himself away for a week straight, if not longer. Still, something felt off.

He turned completely around to face the door, having come to a decision too long had been put aside, in his opinion. Solas needed to confront Lavellan about last night's events. Fully this time. He wanted - needed - to know. The elven mage stalked towards the door leading into the Great Hall only to stop right at the door.

His heart skipped and he grasped at his chest, a memory painfully came to mind. 'Mayhaps it was me Cole was reading... Because... There's no way he's...' Solas' grip tightened and his jaw set firmly, fighting back the prickling sensation. Swallowed back the emotional pain as he steeled himself. 'No... He's gone.' 

From the next level up, both the Spymaster and the Tevinter mage had been watching Solas for a little bit. Curiosity more from what they just heard. It wasn't like they were purposely eavesdropping, usually not many hear Cole verbally project someone's thoughts. That's if the individual remembered seeing the Spirit boy.

"Was that...?" Dorian started to question, honestly confused as he gave a tilt of his head.

Leliana had her in thought expression with a furrowed brow. "Seems Solas is keeping things from us..." she replied, turning her gaze towards Dorian for a brief moment before glancing down to the elven mage that finally left the rotunda.

She excused herself, returning to her roost above. The spymaster waved over her two most trusted agents. She gave them their orders, see what they could find on their elf mage friend...

**Author's Note:**

> Ma banal las halamshir var vhen = "You do nothing to further our people."
> 
> Ir abelas = "I am sorry."
> 
> Telandas = "Nothing is inevitable."


End file.
